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Witness of the false dreamsLOCATION: In a hidden room, door locked. Inside the room two chairs sat along with a table. Upon the table sat some food and a pitcher of water. In the far right of the room, a small fridge stood upon another table were a t.v. screen sat. The lights were dimmed. Two persons walk in and close and lock the door. The two sit across each other.
AGENDA: CURRENTLY UNKNOWN TO USERS</b>
???: Sits down with the recording device. Turns it on. So, what shall we call you?
???: You can call me Witness for now. Seeing how that is what I be and nothing more.
???: Very well . . .Witness. Can you tell me what has or is happening?
WITNESS: That all depends upon ones point of view.
???: What do you mean?
WITNESS: WE all have our own indivudual points and values upon things and how we see such things. Think about. We could look at the same thing and come upon a SLIGHT agreement but never a FULL agreement.
???: An example?
ng Twilight Memory 1 -Death ?-The horse snorted as the Judge tried to regain control of the animal. He had crossed the bridge like this before, so why was the beast ravaging around in such a manor? He had crossed the bridge when the water raged across like this but now . . . it was wild and out of control. The girl clung to him as fear filled her being. He felt his blood run cold. Her in fear? Nay! He would
He felt himself fall off the horse as someone slammed into him. The girl slipped and fell into the mud as he tried to keep his balance upon the beast as the horse reared backward, making him tumble off into the mud. He cursed loudly, Qu'au nom du seigneur?!
A series of laughter mocked at him as he fell. He groaned as he tied to get up but someone kicked him. He groaned as he curled upward, holding his stomach from where he was kicked at. He struggled to see but the mud and rain obscured his vision from seeing his attackers.
Bien, bien! Juger Aldric Charlemagne Frollo?! they
Twilights Memory 1 -Dreams-The bells tolled loudly from the cathedral. Ah! Notre Dame, the jewel of Paris France. Time, from the tollings of the bells was - - -
Blackness . . . .
Fl-fl-ic-ckering . . . . </b>
as the city hurried for the - - - sales. A storm was drawing near as teh sky thundered. The peaceful day soon turned dark as the clouds drew near and hid the sun in a gray shadow. Storekeepers began to close up as the civilains began to head home before the storm hit.
In the midst of things a man clad in black upon a black horse rode slowly through the city. Around the horses feet a small child pranced about as a day-old filly. Happily playing around as the rider took utter care to not to trend upon her and keeping a close eye upon things about the city.
The girls hair was a soft-gold that blazed in the light and in the dark was a deep bronze color that seemed to glow without any lights help. Her eyes soft as goosedown but as blue as sapphire. Curls wound around her frail and slender ne
Twilghts Memory 1 -The Voice-How many years has it been?
Too many . . . .
Can you remember them?
Faintly . . . . but they're slipping away . . .
Regret being a Twili?
Yes . . . .
Long for death?
Yes . . . . .
Whats stopping you?
No reply came as he opened his dark eyes. He sat up. Sweat matted his hair and face as it trickled off his sharp nose. He panted slowly, his mine slowly thinking of what had just happened. His panting slowly ceased as he came to realization that the voice was only a hallucination, a figment of an illusion toying with his mind.
He groaned as he sat up fully. Wiping the sweat off his brow when he then realized . . . . he was drenced in sweat. He gave another groan as he pushed his body out of the bed. He stared emotionessly at the bed. Wondering of why and what had happened last night. While he stood and ponder the disembodied voice came back, asking its last question that went unanswered:
Whats stopping you?
He stopped. Froze. What?
A Bloody, Stupid Miracle The day we’d cured the human condition was the day I put a bullet through my head and didn’t die. It was also the day I realized how scared I actually was of death, and after hours of muscle ache from holding that gauze against my open skull, after the wound closed and everything went back to normal, I had myself a good old-fashioned brainstorm. How ironic.
But when summer came, everything had fallen to shit. The air scorched my skin and parched my tongue every time I took a breath. The sun glared down on a rapidly-collapsing world, full of the undying bastard children of cruelty and misfortune. What was one to do when their cells regenerated faster than they decomposed?
My feet hit the pavement, now littered with jagged bits of glass to snap at my toes, thoroughly baked by the blazing ball of bitter disdain high overhead. Today was worse than yesterday. Though I’d often wondered the purpose of it anymore, I
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